Sunlight streamed in through the large picture window of Rodrich's living room, illuminating the bright ivory keys of his grand piano. His fingers danced over the keys, filling the room with a beautiful chorus of sound. This was heaven. He let himself slip into that state. The state where nothing else exists but the music.

The serenity was broken as quickly as it had begun, with the appearance of his 'Dear Friend', the self-proclaimed awesome nation of Prussia, Gilbert Bielshmidt. Said 'Dear Friend' had broken in through the unlocked window, laughing in that irritating way of his, before beginning his usual incoherent babble. Rodrich groaned quietly at the unending stream of senseless words pouring from the others mouth. Slowly he began to fade out, not really listening to what Gilbert was saying. He caught some things, most of which were dotted with 'awesomes'. Gilbert seemed to be rambling even worse than usual. Not caring, the Austrian turned back to his instrument and resumed playing. It wasn't long before he returned to that state.

He didn't know how much time had passed since he had fallen out of reality, but when he came back, it was to find the room much quieter than it had been before. He twisted around on his piano bench to get a better look at his living room, already worrying about what kind of mess had been left behind.

Light was still pouring in, but it was paler now. Now it washed over semi-translucent skin and shone on strands of snow white hair, feathered across the sleeping face of the body currently splayed over his sofa. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of the usually energetic man napping in the fading afternoon sun. He continued to watch the other sleep until he noticed a crumpled piece of paper sticking out of a pocket, addressed to him. Curious, he gently tugged the paper free and laid it flat on the music stand next to the piano. Carefully his eyes scanned the note. He blushed lightly at its contents, but smiled none the less at the ways it was written, so obviously by the sleeping albino, with scattered 'awesomes' and childish grammar.

He picked up an afghan from the chair in the corner and placed it over the other man. He smiled again as he leaned down and kissed him lightly on the forehead. Gilbert may be hyper and crude, but he was his, and quite endearing when he slept.

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